


take your time (coming home)

by dolphin_ring



Category: Coming Home - Rosemunde Pilcher
Genre: Epilogue, one more letter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-27 23:47:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30130740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dolphin_ring/pseuds/dolphin_ring
Summary: How did I end up here?How'd I find love and conquer all of my fears?See, I made it outOut from under the sun-Fun, Take Your Time (Coming Home)





	take your time (coming home)

**Author's Note:**

> How did I end up here?  
> How'd I find love and conquer all of my fears?  
> See, I made it out  
> Out from under the sun  
> -Fun, Take Your Time (Coming Home)

The Dower House,  
Rosemullion.  
March 19, 1950 

My dearest Jess, 

Thank you for the lovely photograph of you and Ruth. It made me so happy to see the two of you together, making delightfully happy memories in Sydney. You look blissful and blooming – the weather here is stormy and grey and I rather envy you the sunshine and warm beaches. Send me heaps more photographs and I will pin them all over the walls and keep warm in their glow. 

Jeremy and I are well. He is frightfully busy of course, but has hired another consultant for the practice in an attempt to keep up with the queuing public and the masses of paperwork. I am working on a new book, a sort of biography of one of Cornwall’s famous painters. A Pre-Raphaelite artist who lived in Porthkerris until he died shortly after the war. Gus mentioned an article about him and then lent it to me. It had this brilliant quote—about future artists coming to Cornwall to “paint the warmth of the sun and the colours of the wind.” One can’t help but imagine standing on the cliffs, the wind blowing through hair and skirts while everything is blue and gold in the summer sunshine. Gus and I got to talking about him first coming here, coming to visit Nancherrow for the first time, and how he’d instantly felt like he was coming home. And of how he and Loveday wanted to be able to offer that to other artists someday. To share the magic of Cornwall with those who would then go on to share it with others through their work. So, back to the point, it made me want to write about the painter, a Lawrence Stern, and tie his work to the efforts of present day artists, a sort of tour through Cornwall through art. I’m hardly an art critic, but Gus says if I write it he’ll read it and keep me from publishing something too foolish. Too kind of him.

But that brings me to sad news. Colonel Carey-Lewis passed away last weekend. Apparently he had been ill for some time and didn’t tell anyone except Diana so no one would worry or fuss over him. I’m sorry I didn’t send a telegram. I thought about cabling, but didn’t want to spoil your time with Ruth sooner than necessary, since there’s no way you could have gotten back in time for the funeral. So please don’t feel guilty for not being here or too sad. He was very old and wouldn’t have wanted to linger in pain and unable to be up and about. Diana is being very brave and strong and we are all gathered around her, family and friends. Athena and Rupert came down almost immediately, with Clem and Eddie and their nanny, and of course Loveday and Gus are here. Friends from London are here too; Tommy Mortimer has been a saint, ferrying people to and from the station and making trips into Rosemullion for food almost every day to keep everyone in rations. Biddy and Bob are here, staying with me; they send love and kisses.

The funeral was yesterday, a beautiful service and the weather held off with rain until everyone was back at Nancherrow afterwards for lunch. Masses of people and flowers—so many people I haven’t seen in years. Everyone sends their love and their congratulations on your matriculation results and acceptance to Oxford for next year. Jeremy practically bursts with pride every time he manages to tuck into conversation your plans for medical school. Everyone is so delighted for you that young Nat Mudge, clearly jealous, has started telling people that he is going to be a doctor too and following the twins or Eddie around and asking them if they feel sick. All very amusing and Jeremy has offered to give him rolls of extra bandages to practice with, as long as he doesn’t use them on anyone who doesn’t agree beforehand. 

Then, after the guests had mainly departed, back to London or elsewhere, the Carey-Lewises and closest friends all sat around in the drawing room sharing memories of the Colonel and watching the children run in circles, fueled by many helpings of orange squash and chocolate biscuits. 

Diana is going to leave Nancherrow at the end of the summer, she says. Too impossible to live there without Edgar, she says, even with her girls home. So, after Athena has to return to Gloucestershire and while Loveday gets her household organized, because then Loveday and Gus and the children are going to move back to Nancherrow. And Athena is going to come back for a few weeks in June. Then we will all help Diana pack up what she wants to take with her to the Mews. It’s strange thinking of her being permanently in London, but understandable to want the friends and distractions of town as she adjusts to life without Edgar. 

When she moves, Gus and Loveday are going to stay on at Nancherrow. Heavens knows how they’ll manage everything, but knowing Loveday within a week they’ll have four young artists there cooking and cleaning in exchange for painting the sea views. It reminds me a bit of when Aunt Lavinia died, during the war, and I ended up buying her house, the darling Dower House. And now Loveday will be living at Nancherrow again, raising her children there. It’s sad for the Carey-Lewises, like the end of an era, but it also feels like things coming full circle— a strange feeling of coming home all over again.

This is becoming such a long letter, and I’m still scribbling on, but just got the most amazing phonecall from Phyllis. I know she’s has written to you herself, she told me she had, but can’t end this letter without mentioning it when I’ve hung up the phone brimming with happiness for her. I can’t think of anyone better suited to manage a hotel, can you? She has always been brilliantly efficient and diligent at any scale of project, and managed me and Biddy quite effortlessly when she was at the Dower House. So I have no trouble at all picturing her directing the hotel staff to keep everything shining clean and running smoothly. I’ve told her you and I will come to stay there as soon as you return from Australia in the fall—we’ll be rich ladies living in luxury for a week or two, what a delight to look forward to. 

In the meantime, give my love to Ruth and her family. And love from Jeremy. We couldn't be prouder of you. Write back soon and tell me all about your latest adventures. 

Love always, 

Judith

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't help imagining a happy epilogue for all my favorite characters in Coming Home and couldn't resist a little tie-in to The Shell Seekers. Someday I'll write a sequel to this where Judith Dunbar-Wells and Penelope Keeling have tea together and are both fabulous... Cheers!


End file.
